


Vertical Stripes

by MatildaSwan



Series: The Gift of Time [9]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Community: sanctuary_bingo, Crossover, F/F, F/M, Multi, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-06
Updated: 2012-02-06
Packaged: 2017-10-30 17:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/334116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatildaSwan/pseuds/MatildaSwan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing good ever came from the tone River was currently using. Well, except that one time…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vertical Stripes

**Author's Note:**

> I've got no idea where this came from, but I've become obsessed with hair recently. And beware the fluff. Fluffy like a duck fluff ahead.

Helen could hear the two of them, half way up the corridor as she walked with a hand stroking the Old Girl’s walls. Their voices drifted up the hallway from a presumably open door and she changed her destination; whatever was going on was far more interesting than the cake she had waiting for her.

“What did you do to your hair?!” Oh dear, River was using that tone. Nothing good ever happened when she used _that_ tone. With the exception that one time Helen found a can of liquid jelly babies at a market on Grubercerebelim. That time, River had used that tone is an absolutely _delicious_ way.

“What, nothing!” the Doctor replied; if one could embody the sound of indignity, he was doing it right now. “I didn’t do anything to it; it’s completely natural. Well…” His voice was getting louder and clearer and Helen could hear him buckling under River’s stare. Daleks had begged for mercy beneath that stare, or so she’d been told; Helen had yet to meet said enemies, something she was extremely thankful for. But that stare; the Doctor might be a Time Lord, but he certainly wasn’t immortal and he wasn’t stupid. He knew it was generally best to just come clean, hopefully before River reached for her gun. Or any other metal, glass, plastic or semi-solid object; River could be very creative when annoyed. “I might have put a bit of gel or something in it when I got out of the shower…”

Helen turned into the room the Doctor and River currently inhabited and lent against the doorframe. She smirked as River snorted with disbelief; she finally understood why River was ranting. The Doctor hadn’t used ‘a bit of gel’ after a shower; he’d put a whole bottle, if not more, of product in his hair and the overall effect was terrifying.

It was vertical. There was no other way to describe it; his hair was standing up at the roots. Standing up on his scalp and tapering into spikes; dangerous, weapon like spikes. If he wasn’t careful he’d have someone’s eye out with those locks, most likely his own with the way he flailed all over the place.

“You like a porcupine,” the brunette interrupted from her the corridor. Both of them turned towards her; the Doctor’s eyes pleading while River’s smouldered. “An extremely scared, dangerous, and quivering porcupine at that. Who told you a vertical cut was the way to impress the ladies?” Helen had been joking but the Doctor’s sheepish look told a whole other story.

“Someone told you that was attractive?” she said is a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “And you believed them?” Now she was almost as high pitched as River had been.

People really shouldn’t encourage the Doctor to do strange things; he was enough of a handful as it was. _It takes both of us to straighten him out whenever he goes hinky on a _normal_ day, let alone when someone decides to make our lives difficult._ Helen huffed as she pierced the Doctor with a patented Magnus glare until he looked down past his towel at his feet. _Poor man_ , she thought as she softened. _He hasn’t even had a chance to get dressed. River must have caught him just after his shower._

She looked over at the other woman and caught her eye. They paused for a moment, as if speaking mind to mind, before bursting into laugher. Once they recovered River took charge.

“Shower. Now,” her tone left no room for discussion. “Helen and I will have you, and you hair, sorted out in no time at all. Won’t we, Helen?” the gleam in River’s eyes was intoxicating. _This afternoon was going to be interesting,_ Helen thought as she disrobed and ran towards the bathroom.

Helen wasn’t sure who got to the shower first; herself, the Doctor or his hair.


End file.
